


Colors of the Sea

by MapleTreeway



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Closure, F/M, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Slow Burn, Soulmate AU, angst like whoa, but there's a happy ending, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 16:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4186968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleTreeway/pseuds/MapleTreeway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tail of a Merman or Mermaid told a story. Each one was different; no two were the same. The more extravagant the tail, the more outgoing. Not to mention the tail's color, which matched their soulmate's eyes. And when the soulmate died, the tail of the one left alive would fade to a nondescript color.<br/>For Thranduil, that nondescript color was what he clung to. Isolation helped keep the pain at bay. Closure was not in his foreseeable future; at least not until Bard, another Merman who had also lost his soulmate, came into his life. And with Bard came the hope that someday the grief would would fade to a dull ache. And maybe someday closure could be achieved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colors of the Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [this mermaid/soulmate AU](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/122541) by december-dragon and I. 



> THIS AU OH GOD I HAD TO WRITE IT BECAUSE IT'S JUST SO -!!!!!  
> HERE WE GO

His tail’s not quite what it used to be. He knows it, his son knows it, everyone knows. Where it used to be enviable in its strength and extravagance, it was now tattered and torn, the fins looking like shredded sails. A long scar was etched on his left side, ugly to his eyes, his son’s eyes, everyone’s eyes. And the color...gone was the clear blue sky; now it was replaced with a nondescript grey. Which was good - fine even - because he didn’t want the reminder. And he most certainly didn’t want another color to take its place.

No, Thranduil had swam through that bed of thorns. Lain down on what he thought were roses but had later morphed into a bed of nails. Gotten pricked and stabbed and hurt while he had been blinded with the awe of love...

No more.

Thranduil’s heart was a fragile thing, hidden underneath sheets of ice. The ice was what protected it; made it so that he would never get blindsided again. So there it would stay. Protecting his vulnerable heart until the time came where he departed.

\-------

There were rumors floating around about him, he knew. The other Merfolk whispering behind his back over how such a strong, magnificent tail could become so wretched. How he could become so wretched. Some speculated why he never wandered farther than his manor gate anymore; others casts sympathetic glances in his direction; and the children told stories to their friends on what “really” went on behind his closed doors.

It amused Thranduil in a dark, humorless way. Whenever Legolas came home from school with a new story to tell, Thranduil would sit and listen. He’d re-braid his son’s hair, fingers moving deftly as his son would relay the latest news. “Ada,” he had begun one day, shifting to a more comfortable position on his father’s lap. “Ada, do we have a snapping turtle?”

“I should hope not!” Thranduil had exclaimed in mock-offense.

This had earned him a giggle. “I did not think so either. I overheard Feren say that we had one.”

“Did he now?”

“Yes. He said that we use it to chop trespassers heads off.”

Thranduil’s gut twisted uncomfortably. Legolas was still so young, only four - he didn’t realize the horror of these rumors. Add on to the fact that Legolas barely had any friends, was constantly made fun of, and tried to hide it all with a big smile, and Thranduil’s heart ached. It tore him apart to see that his son was subject to ridicule simply because of his own broken heart. That wasn’t right.

So to amend this, he sent Legolas - young, sweet, kind Legolas who’s amber tail knocked over seashell vases. Young, sweet, kind Legolas who never failed to brighten up Thranduil’s day - to boarding school. Rivendell Academy, which was hopefully far enough away, was a nice place. The water was fresher, the Merfolk kinder. Or so Thranduil had read.

And when the day came where Legolas had to leave, Thranduil wasn’t too worried. They shared a tearful goodbye, the five-year-old not fully understanding what was happening. “I don’t want to go, Ada,” he cried.

“I know, but you must.” Thranduil replied softly. “Nothing good is here. The water is polluted.”

“It’s been like this since I was born.”

Another twist, sharp as a knife, stabbed Thranduil’s heart. Because yes, yes it had. At least in a metaphorical sense. “It is a figure of speech. Legolas. Go now with Miss Arwen; and make sure to behave well.”

Legolas nodded, sniffling. And not even ten minutes later he was out of sight, the coral reef obscuring Thranduil’s view.

\-------

Seasons passed as they normally did. In the winter, the water grew colder, the surface freezing over and cutting off connection with the Mainland. Little light shone through the ice, causing everything to move at a slower pace until thawing season. 

It was during this time that Thranduil shut down. He didn’t go outside his home; didn’t tend to the seaweed that grew at a seemingly uncontrollable rate on his lawn; and, most days, didn’t get out of his bed. It worsened with his son’s absence. The house felt so bleak, so empty, without the sound of laughter that Thranduil didn’t have the energy to face it. So he didn’t. He just laid there and waited.

Winter morphed into spring which morphed into summer, and gradually the current grew warmer, faster. Connection was restored to the Mainland; light filtered through; families that lived far apart visited each other. The bustle of life was contagious, and Thranduil eventually found the energy to do regular tasks again. It took a little time, each day a little step was made, but it was progress nonetheless.

Legolas visited him in the summer every year. He looked older each time he arrived; his jawline becoming more defined and the baby fat eventually thinning away. He grew, too; slowly turning into a strong, quiet Merman. The stories of Rivendell were far happier than his previous ones of Mirkwood. No one knew his name, so it had been easier to make friends.

“Oh, Ada!” Legolas had exclaimed sometime during the second summer visit. “You’ll never believe how nice everyone there is! One time I had cut my hand on a spear and Mister Elrond healed it. He’s the Headmaster, but he _healed my hand.”_

“Must have been a terrible injury if Headmaster Elrond had been asked to attend to it,” Thranduil observed.

Legolas had nodded sagely. “I didn’t know I could bleed so much. And it hurt.” He frowned as he looked down at his left hand. “The spear went through my skin on both sides.”

Parental instincts kicked in, and Thranduil’s eyes widened. “What do they teach you over there? Why would they allow Merchildren anywhere _near_ spears?!”

“It was an accident, Ada. I was swimming with my friend Aragorn and we saw a sunken ship and we went to go see it and then I saw the spear and...”

While the seven-year-old had recounted his adventure, Thranduil felt oddly out of touch. 

\-------

On Legolas’ thirteenth birthday, Thranduil took him up to the surface. It was high time, he thought, that his son knew what life was like above water. Besides, Thranduil himself hadn’t been up there for nigh eleven years. The adventure would be fun for both of them. Give them something to bond over.

However his tail wasn’t what it used to be. The tatters on his fins granted the water to flow right through, not allowing him enough force to push the water away. Thranduil kept that to himself though, not wanting to show weakness.

Merfolk stared as he, for the first time in a long time, left his home. He tried to ignore their looks, their sneers. The scar on his tail ached the more he struggled to swim upwards. Legolas noticed - of course he did, he was no longer the oblivious Merchild he once was - but didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to anyway. Thranduil saw how he gradually swam further and further away.

It filled Thranduil with such disgust and self-hatred to realize that he was but an ugly ruin of what he formerly was. Anger coiled in his stomach, turning his thoughts dark. 

And when he finally surfaced, the sunlight was too blinding, the Merfolk too cheery, everything overwhelming. Legolas was already socializing with a someone from the Mainland. A wild-haired redhead, stout in stature, and with an untameable beard. Both were laughing, the blond nearly slipping off the rock he was sitting on. It was then that Thranduil noticed his son’s tail glimmering ever so slightly. His eyes narrowed, believing to have seen wrong. But no. Legolas’ tail was shimmering, the sign that he had found his soulmate.

Lip curling, Thranduil ducked back down to the safety of the waves. It had to have happened eventually, he reasoned, but so soon? Legolas was not yet an adult. Not to mention a creature of the sea. Perhaps it was just the angle of the sunlight that shone off his son’s scales?

_No, he thought, it wasn’t._

Blue eyes glanced upwards towards the surface in debate. His son would be fine, he was sure. Their outing together had ended anyhow.

Sighing, Thranduil turned back around, his back to the surface. If he remembered correctly, there was an underwater cave not too far off. Hidden from sight, not many Merfolk knew of it. It was quiet and secret and Thranduil could be alone while getting fresh water. He started to swim in its general direction, wincing internally from his aching tail.

A few moments later and he proved himself right. The cave was where he remembered it was. Thranduil paused outside it, treading water as an onslaught of sudden memories plagued him. All of them painful. This was where he had met his wife for the first time, where he had kissed her for the first time, where his heart had broken for the first time. So many firsts. His throat tightened, his stomach lurched. No. No no no no he could not go inside. That was unbearable. Not without her. _Never_ without her.

Thranduil was about to head back when he heard voices heading his way. Quickly he composed himself, and when a small family came around the corner, he hoped his face was impassive.

“Hello there, sir,” began the Merman. 

_Probably the father,_ thought Thranduil as he studied them. There were four of them, three Merchildren and one Merman. The first thing he noticed about the other Merman was his tail, which was a nondescript color. Clearly he had lost his soulmate also. The next was the way he took his youngest daughter’s hand and drew her slightly to his side. A protective stance. His two other children hung back.

 _Typical,_ Thranduil thought cynically. “Hello,” he replied, fighting to keep the ice out of his voice.

“I had no idea this place was occupied.”

“It is not.”

Confusion flitted across the Merman’s face. “Yet you are here.”

“I was just leaving.” Thranduil explained. He didn’t move.

“I see,” the father of three said slowly. “Well good day then, sir.” And with that he swam passed Thranduil and into the cave, his children following him.

Thranduil watched them go begrudgingly. A surge of old possessiveness crashed over him, and he found he didn’t want anyone to set a fin into this underwater cavern. Not while he was still alive. Heck, not even after he was dead. That cave was his and it was special and no one else deserved it.

And he was about to say as much to the stranger’s retreating back - he really was - but the words got stuck in his throat. Bitter tasting and hollow. _It’s a bit silly,_ a voice pointed out in his head, _that now, twelve years after she’s gone, you want to reclaim a place that doesn’t even belong to you. The reason for it is just, but what good would it serve you? Tainted memories of happier times?_

Hurt, white hot and angry, filled the widower. It steeled his resolve, this new voice did. Perhaps he was finally diving off the deep end, or maybe he was being overdramatic; either way he didn’t care. No matter what purpose the cave would serve, it was still a special place. The fact that he couldn’t say as much was pathetic. Not to mention it was the first time in years he had gone anywhere outside of his house. Which, if one were to scrutinize it, was also pathetic.

With that in mind, he took a deep breath in before making his way to the small family.

“Excuse me,” Thranduil began as soon as he could, “but I misspoke. This place was indeed being used and -”

“And you would like to have it back. I figured,” the Merman interrupted. At Thranduil’s silent shock, he held out a hand. “My name’s Bard, by the way.”

“Thranduil.” Thranduil replied, voice strained, as he took the offered hand.

“Pleasure. If it helps you, Thranduil, we were only going to be here for a few minutes.”

“That hardly seems plausible, seeing as you have three children.”

Bard narrowed his hazel eyes. “My children are well-behaved, thank you very much.” He bit out sharply. Then, with a hint of sadness, he supplied, “They only wanted to see their mother.”

“Is she here?” Thranduil questioned, raising an eyebrow. It was not unlike some Merfolk to remarry to others despite not being soulmates. The blond himself didn’t think he would ever remarry, but he couldn’t speak for everyone.

A pained expression crossed Bard’s face. “No.”

 _Oh._ “I am sorry.”

“It’s fine. She’s with us in our hearts now, and that’s what matters.”

The reminiscent, faraway look in the other Merman’s eyes made Thranduil’s heart ache in empathy. It reminded him too much of himself. Wishing for days that wouldn’t come, days that would be free from soul-crushing grief, days where the family would be whole. 

His throat started to feel swollen. 

Days where he could wake up next to her and smell her hair; where the only missing that would take place would be from a fortnight’s travel. To hear her gentle voice again; to kiss her soft lips again; to see her blinding smiles again.

He bit his lip and looked away.

Raise Legolas with her, bringing him up with love and care. Perhaps visit this cave and have picnics, laughing all the while. And the memories...oh the memories that could have been made. Happy, sad, and anything in between. So much more than what he had now.

His vision turned blurry.

The pain of it all washed over him. Raw and vivid. Because - because that was all wishful thinking. She was neither here nor there. For goodness sake, she had _died_ twelve years prior! Twelve years and Thranduil was still not over it. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if he’d _ever_ be over it. She had been taken from him and Legolas so abruptly and -

 _Steady yourself!_ Thranduil thought. _You buried this all under ice for years. Put it back._

So that was what he did. He steadied himself, pushed all thoughts of her from his mind. And when he looked back at Bard, he found that Bard was watching his children, who were huddled around a small grave not too far away from the entrance of the cavern. It was all very intimate, and when Thranduil started to leave, Bard shook his head. 

“You don’t have to go.” Bard said. “You’re not disturbing anyone.”

“Clearly it is a personal visit. I can come back at another time,” Thranduil responded.

Bard turned to him then. The blond saw how the dark-haired Merman studied him, and a few seconds later a look of gratefulness shone in his eyes. He nodded once and that was that.

Thranduil left.


End file.
